Prince Charming
by Razer Athane
Summary: "Just because you lost your wolf doesn't mean your dog's abandoned you." -Steve x Julia, Oneshot-


Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Tekken.

Author's Note: That time of the month again – to post some random oneshot I'd been writing o.o! I was supposed to post this in a few days, but I couldn't hold off. I like it too much and wanted to share it with you guys alreadyyy D: XD

By the way do you guys have any… well, I won't say _requests, _because I don't operate like that, but is there something (i.e. a character) that you guys are interested in seeing from me? I know I write a lot of Hwoarang (and I'm actually writing coming multichap where he's not the central character for once lololol) and the like, but is there someone you'd like to see me tackle? It'd be nice if you left your thoughts :3 Thanks in advance!

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><p><strong>PRINCE CHARMING<strong>

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><p>He remembers when they first met as though it's as clear as the sky in front of him right now. Her hair was in two plaits, her glasses stood out like a sore thumb, and she was the only one who didn't giggle at his accent in the class. Then again, when he thinks back, he should've expected them to snicker like they did way back in fourth grade.<p>

Of course, he wanted to sit next to her simply for that fact, but the teacher's some grumpy fat man with an accent that was even weirder than his – Steve was placed next to an African American kid who greeted him with a 'yo' and a toothy teasing grin. He didn't reply, he merely opened his text book.

On that same day, the girl walked up, introduced herself as Julia Chang, and commented on his accent, but it wasn't in an ill light like everybody else had – she called it _charming. _He didn't understand what it meant but he thanked her anyway, and when he went home later that day to his adoptive aunt, he asked her what it meant. She merely smoothed down his hair and said it was a good thing.

Steve turns away from the window and takes a seat on the old, leather couch. He leans back and gazes around the room, noting how the shadows cast by the setting sun made the room feel more eerie than warm. It's not often that he strolls down memory lane, because he's often too busy doing other things or thinking about something else – but he has the time now, so he utilises it.

He remembers how over time, she took to calling him 'Prince Charming' more than 'Steve' in their younger years. As they went through elementary school, they used to make-believe that the jungle gym was a castle, and that she'd been trapped by some bitter old witch. He of course always played the part of Prince Charming and rescued the Princess by breaking into the place by using the flying fox.

As they went into high school together, the nickname began to lose strength. They were still friends, but they grew apart. Julia was no longer interested in princes – she was looking around for wolves to tame and change, not a loyal and obedient dog. Steve felt left behind, because she might've not been interested in the castle games and memories of old, but he still was. He liked her, he wanted to be her Prince Charming, and she wasn't giving him the chance. But life was like that, right?

He didn't know when he'd become so enchanted by her, but he knew he liked her _a lot_ by ninth grade. She wasn't the same – she did well in school and could somehow balance work with a social life. She had a few friends, the main one he remembered was that Brazilian chick with the rack that made him wonder how she could still balance herself. But something felt off about all of them.

So one day, he told her as they were walking home, "I don't like your friends."

The blandness of the statement made her stop. Steve stopped a few paces ahead, still staring straight ahead of himself. Behind him, he could hear her try to keep her breathing straight – why did she seem so mad? They'd been friends for longer and he was trying to be honest and respect his bad feeling. Julia eventually spoke up and continued to walk, passing him in long strides, "At least I know now that the feelings are mutual."

It took him a few moments to register what she meant – they didn't like him either. He fought for her attention and always lost. They mustn't have liked how he kept trying to be friends. In their eyes, he must've been the _elementary school _friend, the one that gets left behind and wasn't supposed to be friends with their new buddy still. But to him, something felt off – they reminded him of snakes. It felt as though they were plotting something, or just using her for her mind.

He ran to catch up with her – he wasn't aware she'd moved that far forward – and he kept his hands deep in his pockets, "I don't want to offend you Julia, but honestly, something feels wrong. It feels like they're laughing at you or just using you to get all the answers on the tests, you know? I don't want you to end up being humiliated like that…"

"Nobody said you had to stay around. Don't you have that redhead to hang out with too?" she smiled a little.

That hit hard, as though he copped an elbow to the stomach, "You don't want to be friends anymore?"

Julia shook her head furiously and stopped, turning to see him standing there, looking as though he were a puppy that'd been kicked, "That's not what I mean at all. I just mean… I'm not your only friend. If you don't like being around my other friends, you don't have to stick around. Go hang out with some of your other friends, like Hwoarang and that Bruce Lee kid. You're my best friend, Steve, and you have been since elementary school. I never want to throw that away… but I don't want either of us to have to think that we need to be around each other all the time."

He mumbled something that even he couldn't understand, but hoped it sounded like an agreement. Sometimes-friends were okay too, right?

Returning from the memories, Steve rubs his eyes and leans forward, spotting a photo album on the small cupboard beside him. He shuffles across the couch and reaches for it, grabbing the heavy item before dumping it on his lap. He flicks through the images, feeling scenes flow through his mind before they're stubbed out by the picture that follows. He stops at a picture of Michelle Chang, and his mouth twists into a combination of a frown and a smirk. And then he remembers.

He remembers the funeral in tenth grade, where Julia fought so hard to keep her emotions under control. He stood beside her as they lowered the coffin and watched it be swallowed by the Earth. He looked around several times for signs of her other friends, the ones who said that they were 'so sorry for your loss' and that they'd 'be here, _promise_'. Yet he was the only one here – nobody else. No one else that was a friend to Julia was here other than him, and he wondered if one day, she'd remember that.

Michelle had been killed in a hit-and-run accident while she was in California with two of her friends. He felt sorry for one of them, being a cop and all – he was there and had to conduct the investigation. The other was ironically his friend's father-figure, Baek Doo San – but he had not been there at the time, and felt horrible for it. Both were in attendance, in addition to Hwoarang, who mainly stayed towards the back of the crowd.

The wake had been at a small park, where a picnic was held. It felt odd, but considering Michelle's connection to the Earth, he could understand why they chose to have it here. Julia didn't eat, no matter how much he asked her to. Hwoarang's sporadic appearances and comments did little to encourage her too – he mainly stayed with Baek, noticeably uncomfortable in the pack of people.

"I have a suggestion," Steve suddenly stated, standing and taking her hand, "Come with me."

He had no idea where he was going, he just knew that he had to surround her with nature. He had to remind her that her Mum's still around, just not physically – she believed in spirits and stuff, right? But it was almost as though she'd forgotten, and it wasn't hard to guess why. After all, Mothers are important even if they were adoptive - though he'd not know.

His thoughts were recollected when they ended up in a clearing farther away from the crowd. He watched as her crestfallen expression evolved into a pleased one. Julia strolled out into the middle of it and span around in a small circle, arms outstretched as she marvelled at the trees, flowers and the speckled sunlight streaking through to the grassy ground. His little idea was clearly working.

As she observed, Steve looked to his left, noting a red flower. He swiftly tore it from the ground and approached her, watching as she stopped and looked at him. He smiled a little, pushed her red glasses farther up her nose for her, and stuck the flower in her hair, though the process was awkward, "Frowning doesn't suit you, love. Smile."

She kissed him that day, but he never understood the meaning. It was too muddy. He assumed it to be a moment of weakness, as though she'd broken under the pressure like fragile glass. But he didn't care – he let it happen. He just wished it happened again sooner rather than years later.

And as he predicted a year before, Julia's friends abandoned her. Most left high school after that year, barring Asuka – and it was then that they decided to declare how horrid they felt being around her, listening to her talk about the _environment _and maybe the latest MMA fight. But again, he was there – and Hwoarang and Asuka too – but she still felt betrayed. He couldn't blame her.

He _could, _though, blame Hwoarang for taking advantage of it. He knew he didn't mind her, but Steve couldn't watch Julia's eyes brighten up whenever she saw him. He was the wolf that she'd been looking for – the one without a pack, who was free and set in his ways. The one she wanted to tame and change for the better.

She liked him, and he hated it – though he could never hate the Korean.

He hated it especially when he took further advantage of her growing attraction in the two years that passed. He hated that he'd taken to spying on them through the window as they stood alone in the science classroom, and he hated hearing him ask with a fake, shy smile, "Go to the prom with me."

He quickly flips to the end of the photo album – and he sees prom photos. He drowns that memory out, because he doesn't want to remember that afterwards, he hid up at the basketball courts shooting hopes and temporarily pretending that the hoop itself was Hwoarang's face – and then feeling bad for thinking like that, because Hwoarang's his friend. And he didn't cry at home either – though he did realise then that he was in love with her.

As he looks at Julia in her pretty green dress, he remembers finding her out the front of the building, clutching the dress with an unprecedented frustration. Steve sat beside her and squashed up his jacket and blue shirt sleeves until they went over his elbows, "Problem?"

"So," she began, sitting up and adjusting her hair – it was in a bun, "Hwoarang and I walk in and spot Asuka. We hang out, they start to have a bit to drink. It was punch, I think. I go to the bathroom and I come back? They're making out in the corner. I thought Hwoarang was supposed to be _my _date."

Since her Mother died, Steve noted how Julia was quicker to anger than she had been in the past. She was now an icy woman, hardly ever revealing her sadness, masking it with anger where possible. He thought for a few moments before friendly patting her on the shoulder, "The punch could've been spiked. I bet it was bloody Miguel again, he just can't stop with his alcohol. He really sods me off."

"Well, it did smell a little funny. I was going to have some but decided against it."

"There you go. You can't be too mad at 'em."

"It's not that," she looked to him, grey eyes glittering under the lights, "It's just hard to believe that I thought I was in love with him. If he so easily can flip like that, then there'd be no possible relationship for me and him," she then frowned and ran her fingers over her arm, "He's not the wolf I wanted."

"Sometimes," Steve began, leaning back, "people – animals, wolves, whichever – can't be tamed. So it's better to leave them to what they know and look around for something else to hang out with. Something, or someone that you know won't turn around and bite you in the end," he sat up and stretched his arms across his chest, "I think you need a dog."

Because dogs were loyal and obedient. They were the only animal who loved the owner more than itself – like he did for her.

Clearing his throat and smoothing his blond hair back, Steve offered Julia a hand, "Let's go inside, it's a bit cold out here. We can dance as friends, it'll be fun! Besides…" he said the next part more to himself than her, "Just because you lost your wolf doesn't mean your dog's abandoned you."

The pieces clicked then, because Julia held onto him all night and wouldn't let go. And he liked it. He liked it particularly during the last dance, where they were slow and there weren't many people around, and the lights were low and she clutched him as though without him, she wouldn't be able to stand. And then she smiled, head against his chest, "You're still Prince Charming."

He kissed her that time and confessed in a whisper.

He closes the photo album and puts it back in its place after hearing garbled murmurs on the opposite side of the room. That was years ago – six, if he counts correctly in his sleepy haze. Since then, they'd gone through University. She uses her degree in biology and works for a new and upcoming company named G-Corporation. His degree in commerce gave him a good job for a while, but he'd since moved onto boxing, his childhood passion and dream. Since then, they'd bought a small house in Arizona's capital, they bought a dog, and they'd gotten married and made more friends.

Since then, they adopted a little girl, because they both thought it was right. It's the same little girl that's asking for Steve's attention as he crosses the room and picks her up and holds her tightly against his chest, as he looks out to the sky and grins quietly to himself.

And then the front door opens, and Julia sings out, "I'm home. Where's my loyal dog?"

He steps out of the nursery room, still holding the child in his burly arms, and watches as their golden retriever rushes to her and nearly bowls her over. Steve merely laughs at her – and then he realises that that wasn't a very charming thing at all.


End file.
